


Together

by LumosLyra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Rare Pairings, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 02:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18791299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LumosLyra/pseuds/LumosLyra
Summary: "She briefly entertained the thought of turning her head at the last moment causing the friendly kiss to turn into something a bit more… but of course, she remained still.  The only evidence of the thought was the slight blush on her cheeks when her best friend slid off of the couch and wandered back to his dorm room."





	Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snowblind12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowblind12/gifts), [LissaDream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LissaDream/gifts).



> My inspiration for this rare pairing came straight from SnowBlind12 and LissaDream's portrayal of Draco and M from their Master Mine series and therefore, I'd like to dedicate this story to the pair of them. Thank you both for providing endless hours of (cold-shower inducing) entertainment.

Sixteen year old Millicent Bulstrode had never been what anyone might call “pretty”.  She took after her mother in that regard, or so she had heard her great aunt say many times over.  If you listened to that great aunt tell it, she was too short, too plump, her face was too round, her black hair was practically lifeless, and her eyes were the dullest shade of brown the witch had ever seen.  At the very least, she had childbearing hips which would likely result in an easy labor and production of an heir and a spare, if and when her parents could secure an upstanding pureblood husband for her. 

 

It had been the same story each time the wretched great aunt had come to their home for tea or a banquet or a ball.  “Millie, darling, did you eat too much cake and sweets?  I swear you’ve grown again.”  Somehow she knew the aunt never meant she had grown taller, but wider. Each time she stood in front of her mirror after her nightly bath, her aunts hateful and demeaning comments were all that flooded her mind when she looked herself over, often with a sigh and a silent admission that she would never be pretty.  

 

Where she possessed a proportionate hourglass figure, all Millicent could see was the extra weight around her thighs and midsection and breasts which were “just okay” given that one was slightly larger than the other (though she didn’t realize this was completely normal).  She was not waif-thin and boyish like Pansy Parkinson nor was she tall and willowy like Daphne Greengrass – both figures seemed to be the wizarding beauty ideal of _Witch Weekly_ had anything to say about it.   Where she possessed pouty lips and high cheekbones, the comments about her face being “too round” came back to her each time she looked at herself in the mirror. 

 

Because her hair possessed soft waves rather than tight, perfect curls or stick-straight shiny locks, she always thought it looked sad, lifeless, and found herself envious of other girls at school.  After all, she was rarely paid a compliment from anyone in her immediate family, no less the girls she shared a dorm with and certainly not any of the boys at Hogwarts.  After all, she looked nothing like the rest of the perfect pureblood princesses. 

 

When the other girls gossiped about their crushes, Millicent was frequently included as an afterthought.  “Millie can keep Vincent and Greg company.”  The “someone has to” was implied, though no one ever spoke it aloud.  Pansy pined after Draco Malfoy while Daphne was enamored with Theodore Nott. Tracey Davis drew “Mrs. Blaise Zabini” on so many sheets of parchment that Millicent infinitely thankful that the house elves vanished them all each night.  No one really thought she stood a chance with any of the other boys – except Vincent and Greg of course.  Like went with like.  Pretty matched with pretty.  Popular sought popular. Plump and plain apparently matched with stocky and stupid, or so her roommates implied on a regular basis. 

 

Millicent wasn’t stupid.  She wasn’t in the same league with Hermione Granger by any means, but she certainly wasn’t as inept as Neville Longbottom was at potions and seemingly every other subject except Herbology.  Her grades were mostly “Acceptable” and “Exceeds Expectations” with a handful of “Outstandings” here and there.  She studied hard, mostly in a quiet corner of the Slytherin Common Room, though she made occasional forays into the library. 

 

She aspired to be a Healer after graduation and she knew that would require several N.E.W.T.S. Whether or not she ever made it to Healer Training seemed dependent on if her parents decided to marry her off to someone and if the war everyone around her was involved in continued or fizzled.  Her parents had largely managed to stay neutral but she knew the Death Eaters were putting pressure on her father and older brothers to join the movement.

 

Millicent knew enough about the conflict to know that she didn’t want to be directly involved.  She wasn’t a stranger to dueling and even engaging in the occasional fist fight – after all, she and Hermione Granger had had a magnificent scuffle or two in the past, but she didn’t ascribe to the pureblood dogma the Death Eaters were preaching from every corner.  She felt she didn’t know enough about muggles and muggleborns to make an informed decision, but she certainly kept that opinion to herself.  It was dangerous in Slytherin to show too much neutrality and indifference and Merlin forbid – open support for the Order of the Phoenix and those with similar beliefs.  There were simply too many children of Death Eaters in her house and the last thing she needed was her beliefs to get back to someone who didn’t need to hear them and in turn, place her family in further danger.  So, she went along with everything so no one would think her any different.

 

Draco Malfoy had been her best friend since they were in nappies and even he parroted his father’s bigotry and hate-speech.  Millicent was really the only person who could tell him he was being ridiculous without taking a hex to her face.  Narcissa Malfoy and Emmeline Bulstrode had become fast friends during their days at Hogwarts.  Draco was born a mere week before Millicent and the two mothers leaned heavily on each other for support during their children’s younger years.  Emmeline served as somewhat of a mentor to Narcissa given that she had already raised three boys.  Emmeline’s oldest was seven when Draco and Millicent were born. 

 

It grated on Millicent’s nerves whenever her roommates would gush over Draco – especially Pansy who seemed to turn into a simpering idiot whenever he entered the room.  Of course, she knew Draco was fit but he was also a giant, arrogant prat.  In her opinion, none of the girls she roomed with would be able to handle him.  He needed someone who wouldn’t be afraid to tell him to “sit down and shut up” whenever he started running his mouth.  Of course, he was her giant, arrogant prat – always had been.  Not that he had ever seen her as more than something akin to a sister.  She doubted that would change any time soon.

 

She’d seen his Dark Mark and though he hadn’t fully divulged the task bestowed upon him by the Dark Lord, Millicent knew it was something very, very difficult.  She watched him carefully and ensured that he ate, but judging by the dark circles forming under his eyes, he wasn’t sleeping and she highly doubted it wasn’t because he was sneaking off to some abandoned classroom to fuck his girlfriend.  His girlfriend spent more nights in their shared dorm than not and complained that he wasn’t being attentive enough. Millicent had to resist the urge to punch Pansy Parkinson right in her pug-like nose every time she opened her mouth and said something negative about Draco.

 

It took everything in her to not put down the Charms essay she was currently writing, pick up her wand, and cast some sinister hex which would render Pansy mute from here on out.  Well, at least until Pomfrey was able to figure out the counter curse which Millicent knew wouldn’t take too long. 

 

She and Draco were arguing again. Millicent didn’t know what he saw in the witch because it seemed like they fought more than they were friendly towards each other.  How on earth was that any basis for a relationship?

 

The common room was virtually empty save for Millicent, who was tucked back in the quiet corner she usually studied in and a few younger first and second years who were playing Gobstones near one of the windows that showed the murky water of the Black Lake.

 

“I just don’t know where you go all the time,” Pansy whined, her hands crossed over her chest.

 

Draco drew a deep breath and carded his fingers through his shaggy, white-blonde hair.  “I told you, Pans.  I’m working on something… for… _you know_.”  He left it open but the meaning was clear.  He had at least told her something about his task from the Dark Lord, Millicent could ascertain that much. 

 

Pansy’s green eyes sparked fire from where Millicent was sitting and her hands immediately went to her hips.  She leaned forward and scowled.  “You’re ridiculously smart, Draco, it can’t be taking that long to do whatever it is your little project is.  Where are you going, really?”

 

Millicent rolled her eyes.

 

“Why are you being purposefully obtuse?” Draco was starting to get that panicked look around his eyes. This wasn’t going to end well.

 

Pansy’s voice rose about three octaves and forty decibels.  “Did you just call me stupid, Draco Malfoy?” Now she was shrieking like a Camaar fishwife and waving her hands wildly.

 

Draco shrunk back and attempted to placate the irate witch by placing his hands on her shoulders, which was apparently the wrong move because she just shrugged him off.  “No, of course not… but I don’t see why you won’t believe me what I’m telling you.  I’ve never lied to you, Pansy, not once.” 

 

“That’s such a Slytherin thing to say.  Slytherin’s may not lie but they withhold the truth” Pansy protested, her face turning redder as her anger escalated. “I’ll bet you tell _her_ everything.”

 

Millicent rolled her eyes for the second time.  _Well, fuck.  Here we go.  Now, I’m involved._  It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time they had fought about her.  Millicent quickly disillusioned herself before the pair of them realized she was in the room.

 

“Millie knows what you know,” Draco said, though Millicent knew that was only a half-truth.  Draco hadn’t shown his Dark Mark to any of their other classmates and consistently kept it hidden either under his clothes or via a complex glamor his mother taught him. 

 

Pansy just made some horrible groaning noise in response and threw her hands up in the air before storming out of the common room, her robes swishing in a flurry behind her. 

 

Draco leaned against the mantle of the large hearth in the Slytherin common room and leveled his breathing before walking over and sitting down beside Millicent on the couch she routinely occupied when studying.  With a heavy sigh, he leaned against her and rested his head on her shoulder. 

 

“How did you know I was here?” she asked, cancelling the charm.

 

“You’re always here,” he offered.  “You would either be here or my head would be on that armrest right now.  Either way, I’d much prefer you to the upholstery.” 

 

She laughed, leaning her head against his.  “Trouble with the missus?”

 

“Something like that,” he conceded before sliding down the couch and resting his head in her lap.  His eyes were closed as she ran her fingertips through his hair while a small smile played on his lips as she did so.

 

“Did you want to talk about it?” Millicent asked. He wasn’t usually one to just open up easily about what he was feeling, so she doubted he would want to even if she thought he needed to. 

 

“No.  I’m fine.”  Deflection – typical, utterly predictable Draco.

 

“No, you’re not, but I’ll respect your wishes and won’t pry.” 

 

Millicent continued to look over one of the books she had requested from the library for her Charms essay while he remained lost in his thoughts. A few moments later, she felt all of the tension leave Draco’s body as he fully relaxed against her.  Apparently, he had worked through whatever he needed to without voicing his problems to her and was now pulling himself back into a sitting position, though he remained close to her. 

 

“You’re coming to the Manor for Yule, right?”

 

“I come every year.” It was true, she and her family joined the Malfoys and a few others within their circle at the Manor for brunch the day of Yule.  She didn’t understand why he was already asking about Yule – it was only October – Samhain hadn’t even passed.

 

“Promise?” Draco had that look in his eye like he was withholding something important and it made Millicent instantly suspicious.

 

“What aren’t you telling me?” she asked him, eyes narrowed.

 

“Just… promise me you’ll be there.”  That absolutely confirmed Millicent’s suspicion that he was hiding something from her.  Of course, his tone and eyes also took on this pleading look that ensured he looked like he would perish without her presence. 

 

She huffed and ruffled his hair, playfully – mainly to knock him down a peg and keep him on his toes.  The truth was that the pleading look in his eyes unsettled her, but it wouldn’t do to let it show.  “Of course, you prat.”

 

His hands immediately flew to his hair, smoothing it back down and preening like a peacock.  She didn’t like the smile that took over his face – it spoke of “just wait until you find out what is really happening at Yule” and that made Millicent’s stomach want to do flip-flops.  When his hair was finally straight and coiffed to his liking, he leaned over and pecked her on the cheek.

 

She briefly entertained the thought of turning her head at the last moment causing the friendly kiss to turn into something a bit more… but of course, she remained still.  The only evidence of the thought was the slight blush on her cheeks when her best friend slid off of the couch and wandered back to his dorm room.

 

……….

 

It was a few days later when Millicent received an owl from her mother.  She nearly incinerated the entire letter at the breakfast table but instead chose to ball up the expensive parchment and chuck it straight at Draco’s head. 

 

“I knew you were hiding something, you great arse!”

 

Draco just laughed and picked the letter up off of his plate, though a few bits of egg still clung to it.  “Well, you certainly can’t get out of it now.”  Millicent desperately wanted to smack the grin off of his face. 

 

Millicent released a long groan and buried her face in her hands.  If there was one thing she hated above all others, it was shopping.  Clothes never seemed to fit right and they certainly didn’t flatter.  It just reminded her of all of those imperfections her great aunt spoke about every time they were in the same room together.  The torture she was being subjected to was not only shopping, but shopping for formal robes… for a Yule Ball to be held at Malfoy Manor over the holidays. 

 

It meant she would have to face pitiful stares from her friends and relatives over how awful she would surely look in some sort of ridiculous set of dress robes.  She remembered the unfortunate ones she’d had to wear for the Yule Ball during her fourth year and was thankful she had outgrown them.  Her mother had tried her best, she supposed, but the just made her appear sallow and even more box-like than her normal school robes.  She suspected every pureblood family in their year would be in attendance and of course, she looked nothing like any of the other girls.  It would be an utter disaster and now she had two months to dwell on it. 

 

She pushed up from the table and grabbed her satchel, storming off towards her next class without saying another word to the rest of her classmates – especially not to her traitorous best friend.  The least he could have done was warn her. She should’ve hexed him before she left the Great Hall.

 

“What’s got Millie’s extra-large knickers in such a twist?” Blaise asked, leaning across Draco to snatch another sausage from one of the platters on the table. 

 

Draco shrugged his shoulders ignoring the insult, watching Millie’s retreating form feeling a small amount of regret for his actions.  He never liked seeing her upset.  “Mum’s been instructed to coordinate a ball over the holidays and I made her promise to come, only I didn’t tell her why.  Her family always comes to brunch on Yule so I’m sure she just assumed it was that.”

 

“Everyone loves a good party and your mum’s one of the best around when it comes to these sorts.”  Theo offered.

 

Daphne and Pansy shared a look between them.  “Isn’t it obvious why she doesn’t want to go?”

 

The three boys just stared at the two girls, waiting for them to elaborate – obviously oblivious to why a normal teenage girl wouldn’t want to go to what would likely be the party of the year.

 

“You three are impossible,” Daphne sighed before she leveled her gaze at them.  She’d had to share a dorm with Millie for the past six years and was very aware that the witch looked nothing like any of their classmates, except perhaps for Eloise Midgen.  “She has to wear dress robes, you idiots.”

 

“So?” All three practically echoed in unison. 

 

Pansy narrowed her eyes at the three idiot teenage boys.  “I don’t know if you three haven’t noticed but Millie doesn’t exactly look like the other girls at this school.  She looks more like Vincent and Greg than any of the girls in our year.  Why do you think we always try and set her up with one of them?  It’s not because we think they’re catches but her prospects aren’t exactly great with how she looks…”

 

Theo and Blaise immediately started making jokes about Millicent’s weight, complexion, hair color, and anything else they could think of.  The pair even postulated on who would have uglier babies, Millie and Vince or Millie and Greg.

 

It was at that point that Draco shoved himself away from the table before he punched them both in their smug faces, thoroughly disgusted by everything he had just heard. So what if Millie didn’t look like any of the other girls – it didn’t make her less than them.  Weren’t these people supposed to be her friends?

 

“Draco!  Where are you going?” Pansy called after him.

 

“Away from you sorry lot,” was all he could manage to get out.  He had no idea the others thought about Millie in that way.  He’d known the witch his entire life and never had the thought crossed his mind that she might be uncomfortable in her own skin.  Pansy and Daphne were correct in that she didn’t really look anything like any of the other witches at Hogwarts, but different didn’t automatically mean less.  The only reason he teased Granger about her hair and teeth as mercilessly as he did was because he liked getting a rise of the muggleborn witch – that and it annoyed Potter to no end. 

 

Millie had been over to his house several times over the summer to swim in the pond on their property and to be honest, he’d had to hide his arousal from her whenever she’d walked out in a very fitted black one-piece.  She’d attempted to cover herself with some sheer cover-up, but it didn’t really do much to hide any of her curves. She certainly carried more weight on her frame than any of the girls he went to school with but in his opinion, she was just as pretty.  How could they not see it?

 

She didn’t use intricate glamour charms or slather herself in enough perfume to render the giant squid unconscious.  Her school robes had never been a flattering cut but it’s not like school robes really flattered anyone who wore them.

 

Pansy always felt so breakable when he held her in his arms during their more intimate moments.  Millie felt substantial and grounding and the embraces they shared as friends had always brought him some modicum of comfort.

 

He had to assume that Daphne and Pansy were wrong in their assumptions and that she was upset over something else.  She would have told him how she felt about herself, wouldn’t she?  They talked about everything else from when she _became a woman_ to when he was branded with the Dark Mark.  She was the first to see his Dark Mark after his mother, father, and the Dark Lord, himself.  She saw it before it healed and while it appeared gruesome now, it was nothing compared to what it looked like the day the Dark Lord had branded him as a loyal follower. 

 

Draco hoped he could find her.  They shared the first class of the day and he was certain she would have at least headed toward the transfiguration classroom.  He needed to make sure she was okay and well, to apologize for being such an arse and keeping that from her.  He honestly hadn’t thought it would upset her and she generally didn’t mind his little secrets from time to time.

 

When he peeked into an abandoned classroom near where their transfiguration lessons were held, he found her tucked away in a corner with her arms wrapped around her knees. 

 

She didn’t even look up when he entered the room.  Draco dropped his bookbag on the ground near hers and sat down next to Millicent.  When he opened his arms she immediately leaned into him and he wrapped his arms tightly around her.  As he brushed her hair away from her face, Draco could tell she had been crying.  Her cheeks were wet and red and he knew if he could see her eyes, they would be puffy as well.  He dropped a kiss to the top of her head and rubbed soothing circles over her back with his palm. 

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, echoing her words from a few days before when he’d been rowing with Pansy. 

 

She shook her head, “No.  I’m fine.” 

 

Draco couldn’t help but smile.  “No, you’re not… but I’ll respect your wishes and won’t pry.”

 

His echo of her own words a few days before made her snort with laughter before she sniffled again.  “You’re such a git.”

 

“I know,” Draco conceded.  If he wanted to get back in her good graces it wouldn’t do to be prideful. “I won’t hold you to it, you know.”

 

“No, but mother will.” Millicent said, recalling the letter from her mother from that morning which was very explicit about what would happen leading up to Yule. 

 

Emmeline was pulling her from school for a weekend in early November to be fitted for new dress robes.  Her older brothers, Hampton, Gideon, and Ellery were being fitted for their own robes the same day and it simply made sense to take care of everything on the same day.  She could hear her mother’s practical tone bleeding through the ink on the parchment.  According to her mother, the ball was a perfect opportunity to solidify a match with one of the pureblood families in their circle now that Millicent was sixteen.  She would, of course, need to make a good impression and that meant new robes and additional etiquette lessons during the first part of the holidays. 

 

The Bulstrodes were an upstanding pureblood family, though Millie’s own lineage was closer to that of a halfblood.  Her mother was the daughter of a pureblood and a halfblood, though her family did what they could to suppress her grandmother Fawley’s blood status.  The only other families who knew their line wasn’t completely pure were the Malfoys and Fawleys. The Mafoys knew simply because of Narcissa and Emmeline’s friendship while the Fawleys had taken care to keep Millicent’s grandmother’s unfortunate circumstances quiet. 

 

The last thing Millicent needed on top of taking N.E.W.T. level courses, living in a world where war was brewing, figuring out her confusing feelings for her best friend, and worrying about how she would look in formal dress robes was a potential betrothal contract to a wizard she may or may not ever grow to love. 

 

“We can hide in the library or one of the studies,” Draco offered, “though I expect there will be champagne and truffles in the ballroom.”  His voice lightened to a teasing tone.  The last time the pair of them had been allowed a glass of champagne they both became rather giddy and giggly and ended up eating so many chocolate truffles they made themselves sick.

 

“Our mothers would never permit it.  You’ll be in the receiving line until all of the guests arrive and I’m to make a good impression on all of the eligible young men and their families which means altogether too much flouncing, flirting, and frippery.” 

 

Something about her last bitter comment made Draco’s heart drop into his stomach.  “A... a contract?” 

 

All Millicent could do was nod.

 

“But we’re only sixteen,” the argument died on Draco’s tongue before he could even really protest.  He’d been branded with the Dark Lord’s mark the day after his sixteenth birthday.  It really wasn’t a stretch that his parents would try to marry him off at sixteen as well.  Why did the customs of the wizarding world have to be so fucked up?  He knew his parents had been rather young when they were contracted but he never imagined it could really happen to him.

 

Millicent placed her hand around the part of Draco’s forearm she knew held the Dark Mark.  “And war is coming… whether we like it or not.” She felt his arms tighten around her.  “If mother and father are thinking of a match for me, you can bet that Cissa and Lucius have already started negotiations on yours.”

 

The mere thought made Draco pale.  Who would his parents want to pair him with?  Pansy was fun to fool around with but he couldn’t imagine being married to her long term.  Daphne was lovely but she and Theo had always been close and he wouldn’t be surprised if she came back from the holidays with a set of engagement jewelry to rival what he knew was in his family’s own vault.  It was entirely possible they were thinking of a pureblood from another country or someone who wasn’t currently attending Hogwarts.  Then, another thought crossed his mind.

 

“What if they matched us?”

 

She couldn’t make out from his tone whether or not he thought it would be a good or a bad thing if they were matched. Millicent shook her head and closed her eyes tightly.  “They wouldn’t.  Halfblood, remember?”

 

“But no one but us knows about that.” 

 

“No, but Lucius knows and he wouldn’t permit it.  Cissa, maybe… but not Lucius.”  Draco knew she was right.  His father was a highly particular man when it came to his decisions, especially those regarding his son.  Draco’s father had never been unkind but he had always held Draco to very high standards.  Those standards included marrying a pureblood witch worthy of carrying the Malfoy name and producing an heir.

 

“Maybe they’ll match you with Pansy.”

 

Draco shuddered.  “She’s not it for me… you know?”

 

Millicent wiped the remaining moisture away from her eyes with the back of her hand as Draco dropped another kiss to the top of her head.  Her voice grew very small as she said, “No, I know.”  It was in that moment that she realized perhaps Draco was it for her, even though she knew a match between them would never happen.  She never wanted to leave this abandoned classroom if it meant he would keep holding her and they could pretend they were safe from all of the troubles brewing outside of Hogwarts. 

 

“Come on,” she said after another moment of just sitting in silence, “class will be starting any minute.” 

 

Draco merely nodded, considering the witch tucked into his side – the one who no one really seemed to give any consideration to.  The one who was always there for him, no matter what was happening in their lives.  The one who never failed to make him laugh when he himself wanted to cry – who saw him at his best and his worst.  The one who had brilliant brown eyes the color of chocolate truffles and hair as black as night who smelled of oranges and a summer rainstorm.  The one who simply felt like home whenever she embraced him. 

 

The one witch with whom he might consider spending the rest of his life if he had to make that choice at sixteen… that he knew his father would never accept.

 

……….

 

Millicent hated shopping.  She had been poked and prodded by any number of pins and tailoring witches who insisted on taking her measurements as they surely had nothing of her size in stock for her to try on.  It was the same every time she went and purchased school robes and other clothing.  Everything had to be made and no one in the whole of wizarding London really seemed to know how to fit things to her body so that they were remotely flattering.  Merlin forbid they went to any muggle stores. Millicent’s mother grew more and more angry at each store they went to before she finally sought the aid of Narcissa Malfoy.

 

Her oldest boys had been fitted for their robes at Twillfit and Tattings while Millicent sat by and sulked in a chair, watching as the assistant tailoring witches fawned over and measured her brothers for their dress robes.  Her brothers took after their father with their strong jaws, bright eyes, and dashing smiles.  Hampton was shamelessly flirting with the shop witches while Gideon and Ellery were arguing about the upcoming quidditch match between the Magpies and the Arrows.  Millicent was glad Hampton’s wife wasn’t here to see his shameful behavior – he had always been a bit of a playboy but she (and her mother) hoped he would settle down when he married Seraphina Shafiq.  The witch was either none the wiser or simply tolerated her husband’s behavior. Millicent wasn’t sure which was worse.

 

She felt somewhat relieved when Narcissa Malfoy joined them and the boys were sent on their way.  The matriarch of the Malfoy family, who had been like a second mother to Millicent, embraced her like she was her own daughter and told her how lovely the blue jumper she was wearing looked against her complexion.  Millicent blushed, unused to hearing such compliments.

 

Of course, her mother took that opportunity to launch into a tirade about the dress shops in wizarding London not catering to girls of Millicent’s size and she once again shrank in on herself.  Narcissa seemed to sense this and pulled a small item in a folded handkerchief from her pocket. 

 

“Well, it’s a good thing I’ve arranged for us to travel to Paris.  I know a few wonderful couturiers who would love to dress a Bulstrode, especially one as lovely as Millie”  This, of course, made Emmeline breathe a sigh of relief while Millicent merely bit her bottom lip, thoroughly expecting that they would find the same treatment in Paris as they had in Wizarding London no matter what Narcissa Malfoy said.

 

Before she knew it, the portkey was activated and they were walking along the wide, sunny avenues of wizarding Paris.  Narcissa led the Bulstrode women to a quaint shop on the outskirts of wizarding Paris and tapped her wand against the doorframe.  They were immediately granted access and Narcissa began having rapid conversations with a lovely witch with wide hips and a heavy bosom with a shock of lavender hair in French while motioning towards Millicent.  The witch’s eyes lit up and she summoned several garments in various shades and fabrics. 

 

Behind a curtain, Millicent was laced into a corset, “ _to enhance zee figure_ ” the witch had said before she was draped in all manner of satin, lace, chiffon, and velvet.  For the first time in her adolescent life, these dresses seemed made for her body, though the shaping of the corset certainly helped – even if it didn’t appear to be laced too tightly.  When she looked at herself in the mirror, they made her feel powerful and confident.  With the aid of the corset, she could clearly make out her figure, where before she had simply focused on the extra weight she carried on her stomach and thighs.  She had a waist… not just the boxy shape she’d always been led to believe.

 

Emmeline was practically sobbing with joy and gratitude by the time Millicent’s dress robes were chosen while Narcissa wore a smug smile on her face, appraising the young woman with her icy blue eyes.  Emmeline even went so far as to order several summer dresses for Millicent in a variety of colors and patterns in addition to the dress robes which were purchased.

 

Before they parted ways, Millicent embraced Narcissa and thanked her profusely for the trip to Paris. 

 

The older witch smiled at the younger with a fondness in her eyes, “I look forward to watching you turn heads at Yule, pet.”

 

Millicent frowned.  “I’m not sure it will go that far, aunt Cissa, but I appreciate your confidence in me.” 

 

“You’ll look stunning, my dear.  Of that, I have no doubts.  I’m certain your parents will secure a very advantageous match for you before the evening is out.”

 

Millicent nodded, but remained silent. 

 

That comment seemed to spark something in Emmeline’s memory. “Oh, Cissa.  Is it true that Lucius has entered into negotiations with Hyperion Greengrass for Draco’s own contract?”

 

Narcissa glanced once more towards the young woman whose mood had suddenly gone from vibrant to melancholy before turning towards her mother.  “Yes.  Their youngest daughter, Astoria.  We’re still in the early days, though, Emmie. Of course, their family will be at the ball in December so we will see if the children are even remotely compatible.  The last thing I would want is to push Draco into a match where he would not find happiness.”

 

Millicent was certain all of the blood had receded from her face as she suddenly felt light headed and dizzy that the Malfoys were looking to tie Draco to a girl four years his junior.  Astoria was only a second year. The thought made her feel sick.  She had expected he would be matched with someone closer in age to them, perhaps a year old older or a year younger – not a mere child of twelve.  What was their world coming to?

 

She went through the motions of saying goodbye to Narcissa before her mother, none the wiser, whisked her back through the floo to Hogsmeade so she could return to Hogwarts.

 

……….

 

The next time Millicent was able to get Draco alone to tell him about his own contract, he was sporting a garish love bite on his neck which he had apparently forgotten to glamour or apply a touch of bruise paste to.  That, or he was so arrogant about it that he left it showing on purpose.  Millicent couldn’t focus on anything he was saying until she put her hand over his mouth to silence the wizard and uttered the incantation to conceal the love bite. 

 

“If Pansy keeps leaving those on your neck, people will start to think she’s part vampire.”

 

Draco rolled his eyes and grinned lasciviously.  “You should see the one…”

 

Millicent smacked him in the arm.  “Shut up, I don’t want to hear about that.” She really didn’t.  She didn’t know if she would feel envious or not, but she certainly didn’t want to find out about where on her body Draco had marked his girlfriend.

 

“What’s got your knickers in such a twist today?” He teased, rubbing the spot on his arm where she hit him.

 

She felt her chest flush as she spewed out the words. “I know who you’re being contracted to.” 

 

Draco, who had been draped lazily across the couch in the common room, immediately sat up straight and leaned in close to her.  “Who is it… and how did you find out?”

 

“Mum and I went shopping with your mum in Paris to find me a suitable set of dress robes for the ball.  Your mum made a comment about my own contract and then my mum asked your mum about yours.” 

 

She wasn’t sure it was possible, but Draco seemed even paler than normal.  His hands were clasped tightly in his lap as he waited for her to divulge the name of his intended.  Millicent glanced around the common room and spotted the girl with a few other second years watching two boys playing Exploding Snap on the other side of the common room. 

 

“You see the girl with the dark brown hair by the boys playing Exploding Snap?  The one next to the redhead?”

 

Draco looked confused as he glanced at the group of students across the common room, “The second year?” 

 

Millicent nodded, “That’s Astoria Greengrass, Daphne’s little sister.”

 

“Oh fuck.”  His eyes widened and he involuntarily reached out for Millicent’s hand for support.  She squeezed it in response.  “She’s what, twelve, maybe thirteen?” There was a panicked undercurrent to his normally calm baritone.

 

“Yes.  Your mother said it was still early days but didn’t seem upset by the match.  She wanted to make sure the pair of you were compatible at the very least.”  She didn’t feel the need to mention that Narcissa had looked at her a bit funny before she told her mother about Draco’s potential match.

 

“I think I need some air,” Draco said, tugging at the collar of his oxford and loosening his tie even more. 

 

“Do you want me to come with?” 

 

Draco merely nodded and the pair of them exited the common room together.  They made their way through the dungeon corridors and up the stairs until they stepped into the crisp November air.  Draco grasped Millicent’s hand as they wandered through the courtyard in silence.  It certainly wasn’t the first time he had sought physical comfort from her and she really hoped that none of the students in the courtyard reported back to Pansy that they were holding hands.  The last thing she needed was to hear that witch screeching again about their friendship. 

 

Draco led them to a secluded spot near the gardens and greenhouses where they often came to work on their Herbology project.  He cast a warming charm on the pair of them before tugging her down to sit next to him, leaving their fingers entwined. 

 

“I need to tell you something,” Draco said after a few moments. 

 

“Is this about the match or something else?” she asked, placing her hand over his shirt where she knew the Dark Mark was burned into his flesh. 

 

“The night I was … you know… _he_ gave me two tasks.”  Draco didn’t want to say too much for fear that someone was eavesdropping. 

 

“I thought there was only one?”

 

Draco shook his head.  “No.  There is an old broken vanishing cabinet that I’m to repair.”

 

Millicent turned her head to look at Draco.  She could see the fear in his eyes as he squeezed her hand tighter.  “That seems like an odd task.  What would the purpose be?”

 

“To let… them… into Hogwarts.”

 

Millicent sucked in a breath and her eyes widened, though she tried to remain calm even though the thought of Death Eaters in the castle made bile rise into her throat.   “To what purpose?”

 

Draco averted his gaze at that moment and spoke to her in a voice barely above a whisper.  “To ensure the second task is fulfilled.”

 

Bile was quickly rising in Millicent’s throat and she felt ill.  Whatever it was Draco was about to reveal, it was clearly something completely vile.  “And that is…?”

 

“I’m to murder someone… someone important.”  His eyes flicked towards the Headmaster’s tower and Millicent was struck with an immediate sense of dread.  The war had seemed like such a distant thing and with Draco’s revelation – it was truly on their doorstep.

 

Before she knew it, she was straddling his lap, her arms thrown around his neck as she hugged him to her.  His hands snaked around her waist and he buried his face in her shoulder.    
  
“Draco that’s… that’s an impossible task.”  It was all she could think to say as she fought the urge to cry.  How did you offer comfort to someone when they said they were commanded by the Dark Lord to murder Albus Dumbledore?  It was a task he was doomed to fail and with that failure would mean his own death.  The gravity of the situation was devastating.  He hasn’t meant to succeed – that much she knew.

 

He nodded against her shoulder, but otherwise remained silent.  “Let’s run away.  We can go to the continent or to America… somewhere where they can’t find us, where you can be safe.”  Her mind was reeling with possibilities.  She knew his family had property in France. Her own had a chateau in the Swiss Alps and she was certain the Fawleys had a ranch out in Africa.

 

Tears burst from his eyes as he held onto her with a desperation she had never seen from him before.  “He’ll kill my mother.”

 

She lost it at that moment and cried with him as they clung to one another desperately.  “Oh, Draco… what have you gotten yourself into?”

 

“I never would have chosen this, you know that.”  His words were muffled against the collar of her robes, but she knew he was telling the truth.  Draco had been marked to make up for his own father’s failures in some small way.  He had been given an impossible task to complete or else he and others he loved would meet their deaths far too soon.  What a horrible thing to carry on your shoulders at sixteen. 

 

“I know, I know…” She attempted to soothe him by running her fingers through his hair in between wiping her own tears away.  “Can… can I help you?”  She felt determined to do anything to ensure his success – she couldn’t lose him.

 

She felt some of the tension leave his body at her offer of assistance, but he shook his head, denying her request.  “I don’t want you tainted by this… by me.  You’re too good, Millie.  No one else would understand.” 

 

She took his face in her hands and wiped away the tear tracks under his eyes as she forced his eyes to meet hers.  “There is still good in you, Draco Malfoy, no matter what task you’ve been given, no matter what happens.”  Leaving one hand to caress his cheek, she let the other unbutton the cuff of his Oxford and slipped her hand along his bare forearm to touch his Dark Mark directly.  “This mark does not define who you are.”

 

Draco stared into her eyes for a moment longer before one of his hands threaded through her dark, wavy hair to cup the back of her head.  Tilting his head up, he pulled the witch against him and crashed their lips together in a searing kiss. 

 

Millicent felt as though her body was on fire, especially when the hand not currently tangled in her hair slipped beneath her jumper to rest against her bare back.  Her fingers tightened around Draco’s forearm as her other hand slid into his hair, mirroring his own actions as their lips moved in tandem.  When she felt his tongue pressing at the seam of her lips, she opened willingly and pressed her chest against his.  His grip on her waist and hair seemed to tighten as they lost themselves in a myriad of sensation. 

 

The noises she made as he kissed her were like music to his ears, perfect and delicate and completely arousing.  If merely embracing her had felt like home, kissing the witch made his entire world seem to fall into place, as though this were exactly where he should have been all along.  She’d seen his scars, knew him inside and out, and had not flinched away from him when he confessed the secret he had been carrying for months.  She had offered to help him, to keep him safe, to run away with him away from the mad, mad world they were living in. 

 

It was Millicent who pulled back first.  She was breathing heavily in little gasps as she rested her forehead against his. 

 

Before she could protest about all of the reasons why they shouldn’t be doing exactly what they just did, Draco pressed his lips to hers again.  “Thank you,” he said, “for understanding.” 

 

She nodded and slid herself off of his lap, arranging herself next to him once more.  She buttoned the cuff of his shirt back up and entwined their fingers.  She combed through her hair with her other hand, smoothing out the waves as best she could before straightening her skirts.  The cool, autumn air soothed the fire in her cheeks just in time because Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass rounded the corner not a moment later.  She felt Draco stiffen next to her and their hands immediately pulled apart. 

 

“What are you two doing out here?” Daphne asked, casting a tempus charm.  “It’s almost time for dinner.”

 

Draco stood and offered his hand to Millicent.  “We were talking about our Herbology project,” he lied – so much for never lying to his girlfriend.  Millicent once again smoothed her skirts as she stood and summoned a plant from the nearby green house.  “We were attempting to determine if the chill November air would have any immediate effects on the potency of our Searing Tanglevine since it is indigenous to the Amazon Rainforest.”  They had, of course, already postulated that it would just kill the plant – but that had been weeks ago.

 

Pansy glanced between them, shrugging her shoulders before crossing the space and throwing her arms around Draco.  Draco hugged the witch and planted a kiss on her cheek before glancing back towards Millicent.  Millicent kept her features schooled as calm as possible so as not to betray the hurt in her eyes at the affection Draco was showing towards Pansy. 

 

“Let’s go eat, I’m starved.”  Pansy said, tugging Draco back towards the castle. 

 

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Draco asked, looking towards Millicent who was still holding the small potted plant with an expression she couldn’t quite place.

 

She nodded, “I’ll just put this back and will be inside in a moment.”

 

Draco nodded and turned around almost regretfully with his girlfriend hanging off of him as her best friend chattered away about something she read in _Witch Weekly_ , the three of them leaving Millicent behind.

 

……….

 

They never spoke about the moment of passion they shared near the greenhouses.  Between mid-terms, Quidditch, and Draco’s tasks from the Dark Lord taking up much of his free time, Draco and Millicent barely had any time to even utter a passing “hello.” 

 

Draco distracted himself from his feelings for his best friend by fooling around with his girlfriend and immersing himself in trying to fix that blasted cabinet.  It was half-hearted on his end, but Pansy didn’t seem to notice.  Millicent just buried herself in her studies and attempted to shut out Pansy whenever she gossiped to Tracey and Daphne about how attentive a lover Draco was.  She’d rather hear the complaining that hear another word about his talented tongue.

 

Before she knew it, it was time to board the train home for the holidays.  Draco attempted to corner her in a compartment, but it was soon flooded with other Slytherins and they never got a chance to have a conversation. 

 

She didn’t know what there was to talk about.  He had clearly made his choice and it was not her – that much seemed apparent.  She tried not to take it personally – how many times had she told herself that their parents would never agree to a match between the two of them.  Not to mention he obviously looked at her like a sister – no matter how amazing she had felt after the kiss they shared.  It seemed futile and she simply tried to push all thoughts and romantic notions of her best friend aside. 

 

When they exited the train, Millicent’s mother was standing next to Narcissa Malfoy.  Both of their fathers were conspicuously absent – that thought didn’t sit well at all with Millicent.  She wondered if the pressures the Death Eaters were putting on her family finally came to fruition.  Had her father joined them?  Her brothers?

 

She clung to Draco for a moment longer than normal as they said their goodbyes completely unaware of the dagger-like glares that Pansy Parkinson was shooting her.  She knew she would see him in a week or so when it was time for the ball at the Malfoy’s.  He even seemed reluctant to let her go but she knew she must have imagined it.  She worried what he might find at home, knowing that his family was no longer in the Dark Lord’s inner circle. 

 

Millicent travelled through a nearby floo connection with her mother and felt comforted as she stepped into the familiar rooms of her family home.  The Bulstrodes were an old family and while their home wasn’t quite as ostentatious as the Malfoy’s or the Nott’s, it was still rather large and tastefully decorated.  Millicent bid her mother farewell for the moment and went to her room to unpack her trunk, promising to come down to the library later to catch up. 

 

She was surprised to see several white boxes stacked up on her bed.  Upon peeking at them, she realized that her mother had ordered more than several summer dresses from the couturier in Paris.  There were jumpers, trousers, skirts, shirts, robes, and even new underthings in the boxes in a variety of fabric, colors, and styles.  She quickly shed her school uniform and changed into a simple black skirt that hit just below her knee and a navy-blue silk blouse.  From there, she organized the new clothing in her closet and unpacked her trunk with the aid of one of the house elves.

 

On her way down to the library to meet her mother, she ran into her two younger brothers in the hallway.  Gideon tackled her with a bear hug while Ellery planted a wet kiss on her cheek.

 

“Hey there little sister, welcome home,” Gideon said with a wide smile.  Gideon was the middle child and about six years older than Millicent.  He was due to be married in the next few months to a pureblood witch from Germany.

 

“Thank you, Giddy.” Millicent teased though Gideon just rolled his eyes at her use of the nickname he absolutely loathed.

 

Ellery however, stood back appraising his younger sister.  “You look… different.”  Ellery was four years older than Millicent but had somehow managed to escape a marriage contract for the time being.

 

Millicent shrugged her shoulders – nothing had really changed except her new wardrobe.  Maybe she’d grown a bit this year, but honestly it was probably just the new clothes he was noticing.  “Mum and Cissa took me shopping in Paris for robes and mum ordered me some new things.” 

 

“No, no, little sister,” Gideon chided playfully, “we’re not leaving your side when it’s time to go to the Malfoys.” 

 

“Honestly…” she started to protest, but she was cut off by Ellery.

 

“We’ll have to fight off all of the possible boys who will want to dance with you.  Let them know we mean business – especially since we know mum and dad are looking into a contract for you.”  

 

Millicent rolled her eyes and shoved past her brothers and stormed off towards the library, calling back to them, “You two are being ridiculous.  My prospects are about as good as a troll.  You’ve heard what Aunt Velinda says every time she comes to tea.  I’m not a catch, honestly.” 

 

Ellery and Gideon shared a look between them as they watched their little sister walk down the hall. 

 

……….

 

Draco was miserable.  He kept to his rooms or the library as much as possible since apparently Lord Voldemort had decided to take up residence in his home. The ball his mother was planning suddenly made a lot more sense – especially since it was at the Dark Lord’s command.  It was a way for the Death Eaters to socialize amongst themselves and bring other pureblood families into the fold.  Draco was certain that the Dark Lord would make an appearance at some point in the evening and he dreaded that his friends would be exposed to the megalomaniac. 

 

The last thing he wanted to see was any of his friend subjected to taking the Dark Mark.

 

Based on the meeting he had been forced to attend upon his arrival home, there were already several new Death Eaters who had been inducted into the fold.  In addition to Damocles Bulstrode, Millicent’s father, her older brother, Hampton had also joined – apparently willingly considering the excitement lurking behind his eyes when McNair and Rowle brought out a handful of muggles to be tortured for sport.  Vince and Greg stood by their fathers, though they had not yet been marked.  Draco expected that would happen over the holidays and he pitied his friends, knowing exactly what they would have to endure. 

 

Cassius Parkinson had apparently also been brought into the fold though Hyperion Greengrass was suspiciously absent.  Apart from his aunt Bellatrix there were very few women in the ranks of the Death Eaters – he doubted most had the stomach for the sport, though they would remain by the sides of their husbands as the Dark Lord’s bidding was carried out. 

 

Of course, Draco’s godfather was present, looming over everyone with an air of affected disinterest in the whole proceedings.  He stood at the Dark Lord’s left while Bellatrix was at his right.  Apparently, his godfather was still in favor, despite the fact that his own father had been relegated to the far edge of the Dark Lord’s circle.

 

Draco had been grateful to see his father and had heartily embraced him upon his return home, though he couldn’t miss the haunted look in Lucius’ eyes.  Several months in Azkaban had not been kind to him, though he appeared to be recovering albeit rather slowly.  He had a long conversation about the progress of the tasks the Dark Lord had set for him and Lucius was able to direct Draco to several books in the library about repair charms which would hopefully lead to finding the correct charm to fix the vanishing cabinet. 

 

When the topic of conversation moved to Draco’s betrothal contract, he visibly paled.  His father started speaking on the merits of the youngest Greengrass girl and all Draco wanted to do was vomit.  There was no way he could ever find himself attracted to a twelve-year-old girl.  Perhaps once she was of age and no longer a child, things might change, but he was already in over his head with Pansy’s simpering affections and a myriad of confusing feelings about Millie.

 

“Of course, if you’ve someone else in mind, I would be open to your suggestion.”  Lucius said, swirling his brandy around the edge of a crystal tumbler.  “I have heard you’re dating the Parkinson chit.” 

 

He was surprised to hear that Lucius was willing to consider his input.  Even though he knew his father loved his mother he was nearly certain that his grandfather had dictated Lucius’ own betrothal with an iron fist.

 

Draco immediately shook his head.  “Pansy is… a nice girl, but I don’t think we would be happy long term.  I broke things off with her before we left for the holidays.”  He couldn’t very well tell his father he was using a pureblood girl as a distraction from everything else in his life. Part of him felt bad for the state of his relationship with Pansy but at the same time, the girl didn’t seem to mind.  He suspected if he ever told her that he didn’t want to be with her anymore, she would just go flounce around until she found someone else to fool around with. 

 

“I see.”  Lucius drawled, taking a sip of his brandy.  “Anyone else you would like to put forward for consideration?”

 

Draco’s mind drifted momentarily to his best friend.  He hadn’t been able to get that kiss out of his mind.  He’d tried his best to corner Millie to talk to her about what transpired between them but she managed to avoid him.  It was the longest he’d gone without really having a conversation with her and it wasn’t sitting well with him.  The hug she gave him before the parted on the platform gave him some semblance of comfort but he really needed to speak with her to know how she felt. 

 

“Draco?” His father eyed him suspiciously, knowing his son was mulling over something in his mind – something he may or may not approve of.

 

Draco straightened his shoulders and drew a deep breath, looking his father directly in the eyes.  “What about Millie?”

 

Lucius had to bite his tongue to hold back his laughter. The last time he’d seen the girl – probably last Yule, she’d been a plain, stocky thing with adequate manners and looked nothing at all like any of the young ladies Lucius had been considering for his son.  “The Bulstrode girl?”

 

Draco nodded, holding his breath. 

 

“I dare say she’s only a half-blood, son and not at all what I had imagined for you in terms of a wife.  She’s certainly…” Lucius trailed off, trying to think of an adjective to describe the girl, “… rather plain and not very cultured.” 

 

Draco couldn’t hide the frown on his face at his father’s clear rejection of his choice. Then again, his father hadn’t spent nearly the time he and his mother had spent with Millicent Bulstrode and her mother.  His father saw her maybe once a year and while he and Damocles Bulstrode were on friendly terms, they didn’t frequent the same clubs or engage with one another in business.

 

“She’s my best friend… and ultimately I think we would be well suited.”  He suspected the argument would fall on deaf ears based on his father’s remark, but it was the first time he’d really voiced even some of his feelings for her out loud. 

 

Lucius drained the last of his brandy and considered his son.  “There’s certainly still time to make a decision.”

 

The fact that his contract hadn’t been cemented was the best Draco could hope for at this point. He rose and shook his father’s hand before retreating to the library, wishing Millie was here to help him figure out how to ensure his tasks were fulfilled so his family would be safe.

 

……….

 

 

A week of etiquette lessons held from dawn until dusk followed by what seemed like hours of being prodded, charmed, and polished by a set of glamour witches and Millicent was finally as ready as she could possibly be for the ball at Malfoy manor. 

 

Her inky black hair was curled into soft, loose ringlets and she was thankful the glamour witches had kept the makeup and glamour charms applied to a minimum.  The dress robes she, her mother, and Narcissa Malfoy had settled on were made of black chiffon.  The bodice was fitted to her waist before flaring outward at her hips and pooling at her feet.  Her bust was modestly covered, for which she was thankful, and a sheer, delicate lace rose from the bust to her neckline and down her arms, stopping just below the elbow.  A set of sleeveless robes in the same sheer black chiffon completed the look and trailed behind her as she walked.  She wore simple diamond studs in her ears and an onyx bracelet around one wrist.  The heels her mother and her etiquette instructor had forced upon her had a low heel and had several comfort and balance charms applied. 

 

When Millicent finally caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, moments before she and her family were due to apparate to Malfoy Manor, she took a moment to stop and take herself in.  She would never been some thin paper doll like her roommates, but seeing herself in the mirror in the gorgeous dress once more, she once again felt powerful and confident.  She even felt beautiful in the layers of chiffon and lace.  Perhaps her prospects weren’t quite as dire as she thought and she could potentially match with someone other than Vincent or Greg.  Even still, her stomach was fluttering with nervous energy knowing what was expected of her this evening. 

 

As Millicent descended the stairs her mother immediately rushed to her side, fawning about how lovely she looked.  Millicent wasn’t used to hearing such compliments from the woman and immediately dismissed all she had said within the confines of her mind.  Gideon and Ellery exchanged a look between them and told her they would make good on their promise to keep an eye on her while her father merely pecked her on the cheek and told her to have fun and make a good impression. 

 

Her father checked the time on his pocketwatch and the Bulstrode family apparated away to Malfoy Manor.

 

……….

 

The last ball of this magnitude that his mother had thrown occurred when he was twelve.  He’d hated standing in the receiving line then and he loathed it now.  He kissed the hands of old ladies, charmed the younger witches with his dazzling smile and a compliment here and there, and shook hands with wizards who passed the family before moving into the ballroom.  Everything felt so superficial.  There was a buzz of nervous energy floating around the ballroom and Draco felt the same.  He knew the Dark Lord would be making an appearance later.  He only hoped that he would be able to spare Millie from being forced to meet the man. 

 

He’d heard nothing more from his father on the subject of his behavioral contract and honestly, the thought of running away with his best friend seemed more and more enticing as each day passed.  He wouldn’t, of course, but he entertained a few fantasies in the privacy of his own room of himself and Millie lounging on a beach somewhere, completely unburdened and free.  Her skin was tan and the lycra swimsuit clung to her curves in the most delectable way. He’d lean over and kiss her in full view of everyone on the beach and neither of them would give a fig about what anyone else thought. 

 

He’d also entertained a few more… risqué fantasies, but it wouldn’t do to think about those now that he was forced to converse with an ancient witch covered in diamonds whose face resembled melted wax.

 

He almost missed Millie’s arrival.  He’d barely registered his own father was greeting Damocles Bulstrode and he had blindly shook Gideon’s hand.  He turned his head when he heard her voice and saw Millie embracing his mother as though she were her own.  The words she was saying were completely lost in the din of conversation overtaking the room but Draco couldn’t take his eyes off of her.  It was only when Gideon snapped his fingers in Draco’s face that he turned, embarrassed.

 

“You’ll take care of her, yeah?” Gideon said.  Ellery stood behind him and glared at Draco over his brother’s shoulder.

 

Draco could only nod, wondering about the implications of what they were truly saying.  “I could never hurt her.” 

 

“Good,” they replied in unison before moving forward to greet Draco’s father and suddenly Millie was in front of him, smiling shyly as he kissed her hand. He felt a blush creep up over his own cheeks as he smiled back.  His eyes fell to her lips, remembering how soft they felt against his own.  He needed to find a way to get her alone tonight.  He needed to tell her how he felt and to see if she even remotely felt the same. 

 

“You’ll dance with me, right?” she asked, knowing it would be expected that she spend the majority of her time impressing every other young man in the room.  She wanted at least one dance with Draco, the one she knew she didn’t need to impress.  His father would never agree and she was still certain he didn’t harbor anything other than brotherly affection for her.

 

“I’ll find you for the first waltz,” he promised before she was whisked away by her parents to move into the ballroom. 

 

When all of the guests had arrived, Draco and his family finally moved into the ballroom to open the ball.  Lucius took Narcissa’s hand and effortlessly guided her around the ballroom as the string quartet began to play the first waltz of the night.  As other adults joined his parents on the ballroom floor, Draco kept to his word, seeking out Millie for the first waltz.  Knowing his parents were orchestrating a contract between himself and Astoria Greengrass, he should have offered the first waltz to her, but he couldn’t help but feel that nothing would come of that potential match.

 

If he was forced to decide on his future at this point in his life, he knew who he wanted and she was currently pressed against him as he whisked her around the ballroom floor.  They exchanged idle chatter and pleasantries, nothing of substance, but they looked into each other’s eyes as they smiled and laughed together. When the waltz faded into something else, Draco whisked Millicent away into a secluded alcove he’d scouted earlier.

 

He had to speak with her before anyone else had the chance.  They passed through a set of navy blue drapes at the back of the alcove and found themselves on a small balcony overlooking the gardens.  The entirety of the manor had been surrounded with warming charms, knowing the guests would find themselves in areas such as these for business dealings and private conversations.

 

Millicent broke the silence as she walked to the balcony, resting her arms on the cool stone.  “The gardens look lovely, even in covered in snow.”  They had spent hours running around the gardens when they were younger, flying over them on brooms, and picking flowers for their mothers. 

 

Draco moved behind her and slipped an arm around her waist, standing at her side as they both looked out over the snow-covered landscape.  “You look lovely,” he said honestly.

 

She shook her head, keeping her gaze on the grounds below.  “It’s the robes,” she deflected, “I’ll be back to my normal mediocre self in the morning.”

 

Draco pulled her closer, tucking her into side as his fingertips grazed along the curve of her waist.  He forced Millicent’s gaze to his own as he cupped her cheek in his hand and turned her head.  He lost himself momentarily in her brown-eyed gaze before he was able to find the words he wanted to say.  “You are extraordinary.”

 

Millicent tried to turn away but he held her gaze, “Millie, if it takes the rest of our lives, I intend to prove that to you.”

 

Before she had a chance to utter a single word or even give a thought to what his words meant, Draco had swept her fully into his arms.  As he pressed his lips against her own, she found herself tucked against his chest, her arms around his neck while he held her close.  She lost herself in the sensation of his lips moving against her own.  As his tongue probed the seam of her lips, she opened eagerly, their kiss deepening as they poured all of their emotions into the passionate embrace. 

 

She loved him and must have done for a while now.  She’d always held a strong affection for him as her best friend when they were younger but now, firmly held within his arms, she knew it went beyond simple affection.  She wouldn’t be able to let go after this.  She wouldn’t be satisfied with anyone else.  She was desperate for him, craved him even and this was only the second time they’d been locked in a passionate embrace. 

 

When they broke apart, Draco rested his forehead against Millie’s, panting softly as his mind raced a mile a minute.  He needed her.  She was as necessary for his survival as much as air, water, food, and shelter.  How much time had he wasted fooling around with Pansy when he could’ve felt this way, with her the entire time.  He couldn’t marry the second year.  He couldn’t become contracted to any other witch.  The sun rose and set in Millicent’s perfect brown eyes and he’d been too stupid to see it before he’d bared his soul to her a month ago.

 

He had to try, for her.  He had to survive this war, for her.  He had to convince his father that they belonged together which would be a monumental task in and of itself, all for her.  All for this extraordinary witch whose fingers were currently ghosting through the hair at the base of his neck, simply content to stand in silence and let him love her. 

 

“I need to speak with my father,” Draco whispered. 

 

Millicent doubted Draco would be successful.  She knew how Draco’s father felt about anyone without pure magical blood and hers certainly wasn’t as pure as her family touted it to be.  “I don’t know that it will make a difference,” she told him truthfully. 

 

Draco pressed his lips against her forehead and pulled her against him until her head rested against his shoulder.  “I have to try because I won’t be happy with anyone else.  I’ve been such an idiot… can you forgive me?” He desperately hoped he hadn’t lost her, knowing how he’d paraded around with Pansy, unable to realize his true feelings for his best friend. It had been agony not speaking with her for a month, though he knew they were both avoiding each other while they had been trying to work out what that kiss had meant.

 

Millicent breathed in the comforting scent of his cologne, the same he’d worn since they’d begun Hogwarts.  It gave her the courage she needed to tell him how she felt.  “Of course, I forgive you, Draco.  I love you… and I think in some way, I always have,” she admitted.

 

“I love you too, Millicent,” he replied, using her entire first name to emphasize the seriousness of his words.  He felt her arms tighten around him and in turn he feathered a kiss against her inky black hair.  He never wanted to let her go, but he needed to speak with his father before he attempted to cement anything with the Greengrass patriarch. 

 

“I have to go speak to my father,” he repeated, pulling back and resting his hands against her cheeks. 

 

“And if you’re unsuccessful?” she asked, looking up at him with uncertainty. 

 

Draco leaned down and pressed his lips once more against Millicent’s, just a light, chaste peck.  “Then we enlist the help of our mothers and refuse to accept anyone else.”

 

Millicent smiled up at Draco and kissed him on the cheek, “We’re only sixteen, but I think you’re it for me… and there is still a war to get through.” 

 

“We can get through it, as long as we’re together.” 

 

“Together.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you've enjoyed this rare pairing. I have a few ideas for how to possibly continue this fluffy one-shot, but for now, it is what it is. Feel free to subscribe or follow for future possible updates! Comments and reviews are always appreciated!


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